


Apple Season

by boneprincex



Series: Apple Season [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: City Boy! Karkat, Country Boy! Dave, Dave has a small apple orchard, Human Karkat Vantas, Humanstuck, Karkat Swearing, M/M, One Shot, POV Karkat Vantas, POV Second Person, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), apple picking, dave talks too much, i researched apples for 3 hours prior to writing this, just a couple of bros bein bros, karkat doesnt mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boneprincex/pseuds/boneprincex
Summary: Karkat gets sick of the city and moves somewhere with some peace and quiet.His neighbour, a young farmer, befriends him.
Relationships: Cronus Ampora/Kankri Vantas (side), Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Jake English/Dirk Strider (implied)
Series: Apple Season [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048946
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80





	Apple Season

**Author's Note:**

> Dave is super easy to write bc I, myself, am a Dave kinnie? And he just talks how I talk, but at length.  
> This is also the first attempt at formatting a pesterlog? I could only figure out the colours so like, forget the font lmao  
> This ones a bit longer then Fill My Lungs bc Strider Rants(tm) but it's still quite short. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> oh- uh- my instagram is xboneprincex - i make a lot of fanart so /please check that out/
> 
> (edit: i noticed there were 2 paragraphs in one so i, fixed that

**Karkat: Say Goodbye**

“This is quite a big move, Karkat, and I do hope you’ll call us if you require any assistance at all- not that I’m doubting your capabilities! You’re a grown individual and can take care of yourself! I just hope you realise that this really is quite the change of pace- and I know the move from our suburban home to the city was also quite a big change, however moving from the city to the _countryside_ is even bigger! Not to mention the social implications of your decision-” Kankri’s rambles fade into static as you load the last few boxes into the back of your car. 

“Yes! I understand!” You secure the boxes in place as you talk (yell). The sudden interruption of your brother’s monologue makes him jump, almost as if he didn’t realise he was still talking. “Social isolation, blah blah, cutting out friends, etcetera, etcetera. I’ve heard this all already.” You turn to face him, softening your usually bitter expression, “I’ll be _fine_ , Kankri. I’ll have neighbours and the nearby town! And there’s nothing stopping us from visiting each other.” 

Kankri sighs, then smiles. His boyfriend, Cronus, rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course,” He nods to himself, “Don’t hesitate to call if you ever just need to talk. You’re my baby brother and I care for you, Karkat. You’re important to me and I hope you know that.” 

* * *

**Karkat: Begin Your Journey**

Goodbyes and hugs were exchanged before you found yourself on the road. A long three and a half hour journey, maybe four depending on traffic, ahead of you. 

Filling your ears is music from the radio, playing classic hits from the 80s. The generic, overplayed stuff that you _totally_ deny liking. They’re _too popular for your tastes_. You like the underground stuff. Yeah. Totally. 

Your eyes are set on the road ahead of you, concentrated on watching where you’re driving. Occasionally some _prick who can’t fucking drive apparently_ cuts you off and you fail to bite back the pointless rant that meets nobody’s ears as it comes tumbling out of your mouth. But other than these moments, the drive is mostly peaceful… 

When the busy urban streets give way to almost empty highways, you pull over in the closest rest stop to set up your gps. So far it’s been a decent hour and a bit since you left your old apartment in the city. You had moved from a normal house in the suburbs after highschool to attend university, but after you had graduated with a shiny new degree in creative writing and poetry, you had nowhere else to go. So you stayed. 

You stayed in the loud, crowded, dull, depressing city. No view of the sky, no fresh air and no peaceful nights. It. Fucking. Sucked. 

Almost on a whim, you decided to move to the middle of butt-fucking-nowhere. You quickly found a nice property under the open sky, surrounded by a green grassy field and tall, sturdy trees. A nice little cottage type thing that was reasonably priced. There was enough space to maybe start a garden or something too. Your neighbours are short drives away, so you won’t hear any stupid loud teenagers partying on the floors above and/or below you _at the same fucking time every goddamn night_. And the closest town is about half an hour away.

You set your phone down and listen to it’s robotic voice as it gives you the directions to your destination. 

* * *

**Karkat: Arrive**

You pull the car to a stop in front of the first gate of the trinity. As annoying as it is to have to get out of the car to open and close _three separate gates_ anytime you want to get anywhere, it’s kinda nice to have the extra security. 

After closing the gate behind you for the third and final time today, you park the car in the driveway of your new and mostly empty home. It is currently noon, meaning you have approximately seven hours before dark to get your boxes inside. You were smart enough to bring the bigger stuff up a couple days ago with the help of your friends, so your living room and bedroom are all set up, ready to go.

You fix yourself a quick, pre-packed lunch before unloading the contents of your car into your new home. You ended up tying your sweater around your waist as you did all the heavy lifting. Since its the middle of winter, its cold as fuck. But the crisp clean air is refreshing compared to the polluted city air you’re used to. It's nice, despite how freezing it is. 

You spend the next few hours warming up your house with the built-in fireplace as you unpack a few of your boxes. You’re halfway through unpacking your kitchen when you get an unexpected knock at the door. 

Slightly confused, you put the cups in your hands away before answering the door. A taller boy stands in front of you. He has sun kissed skin and pale blond hair, sporting a faded red flannel, a dirty white t-shirt and black jeans. He looks young, maybe a similar age to you. There are a few paper-white scars crawling across his face, and resting atop of his nose, pitch black shades. He smiles, “Hey, I noticed you’re moving in and wanted to just welcome you to the area.” He holds out a hand, “I’m Dave Strider, I’m from the small apple orchard that's nearby, best apples in town yo.” He has a slight texan accent that you only just notice. 

You smile in return. “I’m Karkat.” You shake his hand firmly before quickly adding on, “Vantas. I just moved from the city.” 

* * *

**Dave: Invite Him Over**

It has been a few weeks since the cityboy moved. The two of you had become decent friends, texting each other on the limited internet that you have and getting to know each other on a base level. 

You have found out that he likes those stupid romantic books and chickflick movies. He was an english major and probably analyses things a little too much. He has a large group of (quote) “obnoxious friends”. 

You learnt that he gets _very_ passionate about certain topics, and that it's very easy to wind him up. 

Which is _adorable_. 

Tomorrow, your trees will be ready to harvest. And you have a plan. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG]  started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--

[TG] hey

[TG] karkat

[TG] hey

[TG] dude

[TG] psst

[TG] bro

[TG] broooooo

[CG] WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK DO YOU WANT

[TG] do u wanna come over tomorrow?

[CG] OH

[CG] SURE

[CG] WHY?

[TG] why not bro? 

[TG] pick some fucking apples with me dude

[TG] itll be fun yo

[CG] YEAH OK, THAT DOES SOUND FUN

[CG] I'VE NEVER PICKED APPLES BEFORE

[TG] oh dude youre in for a fucking treat man

[TG] its so rewarding

[TG] my apples are literally the sweetest things on earth bro

[TG] they make the best juice

[CG] WHAT TIME SHOULD I COME OVER?

[TG] does 1pm work for u?

[CG] YEAH

[TG] sweet

[TG] its a date

\-- turntechGodhead [TG]  stopped pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--

* * *

**Karkat: Attend Date**

What? It’s not a date. We’re just hanging out. 

Regardless, you finish lacing up your boots and do a quick pat down to make sure you have everything. After double and triple checking, you slide on a dark grey jacket and head out the front door. 

You drive through the trio of gates, down the dirt road and towards Strider’s property. The road is lined with sturdy looking trees that allow just enough sunlight through to see well. It’s quite picturesque. If you were younger you probably would have tried to climb them. 

You pull into his driveway for the first time ever. It’s not too hard to find on the account that it's the only fruit based farm in the area, the others being dairy farms or just residences with horses. Or both, in one case. 

As you step out of your car, you hear Dave call out, “Karkat! Wassup man, ready to pick some fucking apples? You’re gonna have so much fun dude, this is gonna be awesome.” He’s carrying a decent sized box with a strap that hangs over his shoulder, adjusting it to sit at his hip as he greets you. 

You lock your door and shove the keys into your pocket before turning your full attention towards him. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You shrug and walk over to the other boy. 

* * *

**Karkat: Pick An Apple**

“Ok, and you just lift it towards the stem and give it a little twist. If it comes off easy it's ripe.” 

Following his instructions, you pick your first apple from the outer branches of the tree. It comes off surprisingly easy and doesn't take any real strength to get it off the large tree. The shiny red fruit is almost too big for your smallish hands, filling up your palm quite easily. You turn towards Dave and put it in the box that still sits against his hip. 

“Woah, dude, you have crazy small hands, wait a second.” Dave takes your hands and presses his own against them. His fingertips extend a full knuckle above your own and he chuckles to himself at this fact. His skin is rough compared to yours. He folds his fingertips over yours to emphasize the difference. “Bro how are you this tiny?” 

“I don’t know, how are you so tall?” You retort, scrunching up your face. A slight warmth in your cheeks rises that you choose to ignore. 

He lets go, “Touche.” 

You return your attention to the tree, reaching out for another apple, this time closer to the trunk of the tree. “Oh, dude wait, that one probably won’t be ripe yet. Try and pick it, you’ll feel the difference.” 

And so you do. You lift it towards the stem and twist it. But instead of it coming off, it stays. Fueled by spite, you twist it again, this time also pulling on it. It takes a surprising amount of strength for you to get it off the tree. You almost fall backwards, but steady yourself before you do. 

“See the apples on the outside get more sun. The apples closer to the trunk will get riper within a couple days, maybe even tomorrow, y’never know. Toss it here bro.” He readies his hands to catch. You gently throw it in his direction, and he catches it with ease and puts it in his box.

“So how long until these ones ripen then?” 

“It takes one or two weeks to pick every apple as they’re ready. But picking them before they’re ripe is ok too dude!” He pushes his shades up as he rambles, you notice his hands move a lot as he talks. “You didn’t just throw a metaphorical wrench in my apple picking plans by picking that one bro. Apples ripen even after they’re picked, which is kinda annoying because if you don't store them properly they get all gross and mushy and nobody wants that shit. Fuck, wait, I’m talking too much, I’m sorry. My cousin Rose always drags on me for that. I feel like you’d like Rose. She’s currently writing a book. Some kind of wizard fiction yo. I’ve read a bit of it, it’s pretty interesting. Hold on, shit, this is ironic, I’m rambling about getting told off for rambling. I’m just gonna shut up now.” 

He presses his lips into a thin line and goes back to picking his own apples. You try and hold back a laugh, but it just comes out as somewhat of a snort. Dave turns his head back towards you at the sound, raising one eyebrow above his shades, questioningly. An actual laugh escapes your lips when you open your mouth to talk, “I’m sorry,” you try to stop, it’s difficult, but you manage to get out the rest of your words, “You just seem so passionate about what feels like such a small thing. Most people wouldn’t even think to look into the source of their apple juice or whatever the fuck when they buy it but you’re so absorbed when you talk about it. I guess it makes sense since this is your _job_ but like, it’s admirable.” A leftover smile traces your lips as your eyes meet his shades.

He glares at you for a moment, a comfortable silence settling between you two before he turns back to his apples. He clears his throat before he talks, “Well, I mean, it’s more of a hobby then my job. Sure I do make some money out of it but it’s fun and I enjoy what I do.” His hands move rapidly as he picks apples. You watch intently, following his hands as they flow from the tree to the box with practiced ease. Your eyes drift up to his face as he talks. You trace a paper-white scar from just below his jawline up to his cheek. And another that goes over his lips. You notice he has a faint scatter of freckles that peak out from the bottom of his shades, along with a light dusting of pink that _might_ be sunburn. 

“My older brother Dirk got the orchard from our Bro, who is actually our dad but he insisted we called him Bro? Which I’ve been told was weird but whatever,” You focus on his shades, trying your best to figure out what colour his eyes are behind their reflective shields. “He fucked off to who knows where as soon as Dirk was old enough to manage the farm. Dirk wasn’t that interested and actually works as the mechanic in town with this other muscular, sweaty dude who lives around here too.” He pauses to think for a moment, “But yeah, Dirk gave the orchard to me when I was old enough to live alone and now he lives with his boyfriend closer to town. He visits often and we just chill, or listen to music. He’s got the best taste in music bro, gave me a shit ton of records and cds when he moved out, I could listen to them on repeat for hours dude.” 

You decide to stop staring at his face as he monologues and start picking apples again. “Maybe we could listen to them later?” He hums enthusiastically in approval. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him nod with equal levels of enthusiasm. Since you don't have a box of your own, you fill your arms with three or four apples before walking over to Dave to place them into his. “What kind of apples are these anyway?” You prompt, content to listen to his melodic rambles. 

He turns to face you, an apple sitting idly in his hand. “They’re all fujis. They’re sweet and juicy and fucking _crisp_ yo. Great for juicing and baking.” He starts to toss it back and forth between his hands. His undivided attention is on the apple as it moves through the air. “When Bro started the orchard for some fucking reason, he chose them. And like, of course he would. He was always into anime or some shit like that, so of course he would choose a japanese apple.” His hand catches the apple before discarding it in the box at his hip and turning back towards the tree. You watch him again, mesmerized by his expert movement as he continues to pick apples. “He wasn’t even that good at taking care of them. I worked my sweet little ass off getting all these babies back in good condition. I think he pruned them like half as much as he was meant to or something.” Your eyes find themselves looking at his hair. It looks surprisingly silky for someone who spends the most of his time outside. The pale blond transitions into an almost-white at the roots. “I’m lucky I was able to revive them. It took fucking forever. They were so small and helpless dude, it was so sad.” 

Prying your eyes away from him, you pick another armful of apples and place them in the box. It’s almost full and honestly you don’t know how he’s still carrying it. “What do you even do with all these apples?” 

His relaxed smile widens, “Most of them go to the Prospit Cafe and Bakery that's in town. It’s run by my friend John and his older sister Jane.” His hands continue adding to the already large pile of apples at his hip. He seems somehow unaffected by the weight. “They’re godtier bakers man, they taught me everything I know. Apple pie, apple crumble, apple _cakes_ dude. It’s so much fun yo. I work in their shop whenever I can. Though during the colder seasons I focus more on the trees, pruning and basic gardening and making repairs to whatever needs it. And of course I still do that shit in the summer but it kinda becomes a full-time job around harvest.” 

He adjusts the strap on his shoulder, “Uh, we should start heading back. I’ve got enough of these babies for now.” 

* * *

**Karkat: Eat An Apple**

Fuck, these _are_ good. 

Dave insisted on you taking a bag of apples home with you after your outing together. And thank god you did. You’ve never had an apple that was this fucking perfect. For starters, it's _unbelievably_ juicy, but at the same time it's crisp and, god, _so_ _crunchy._ How is this even possible? You’ll never be able to eat a store-bought apple again. 

You discard the core and check the time. It is currently 8:45pm and you are _tired._ It’s been a few hours since you got home from Strider’s, since then you’ve relaxed in your living room and had dinner. You quickly go through your nightly routine. Showering, changing into pajamas (aka the same shirt and sweatpants), brushing your teeth, text Kankri goodnight, ect. 

Climbing into bed, you’re hit with a wave of bliss as the soft mattress bears your weight. You get comfortable under your thick blankets, even knowing that you probably won't fall asleep for a while due to insomnia. Doesn’t stop you from trying though. 

You allow your mind to drift. 

Today was fun. You really enjoyed Dave’s company, even though he didn’t stop talking for most of it. But even then, you really like his voice. It's deep and soothing, you feel like you could listen to him for hours. But, you guess you _did_ kinda do that. 

He was cute. Rambling like that. 

He seemed so passionate about his work. Which, as you said in the moment, is admirable. And he doesn’t look too bad doing it.

His hair looks soft and you wonder what it’d be like to touch it. He probably puts way too much effort into hair care. He’s taller and broader than you, with strong looking arms and a decently athletic build. Not overly muscular but toned enough to notice. He’d probably give really good hugs… 

This is starting to sound a bit more than just platonic. 

But it's not as if you like him like _that_ , right?

… 

_Shit._

Maybe you _do_?


End file.
